


Shifting Tides

by elbell3618



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Post-Canon Fix-It, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Unexpected Visitors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 04:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18909772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elbell3618/pseuds/elbell3618
Summary: Forced to face their demons, both old and new, Arya and Gendry find that reuniting a month after parting ways may be one of the hardest battles they've faced yet.A story in which Arya quickly turns back for Westeros after setting sail and Gendry isn't exactly the warmest welcome when she appears in his room at Storm's End. Tough conversations, a little angst, and a happy ending ensue.





	Shifting Tides

She told them she was going west of Westeros. Even she thought she was going west of Westeros, but it didn't take very long sailing to rethink that decision. As soon as Bran was elected King, she started marching west towards the Sunset Sea. She bid brief goodbyes to her siblings, knowing they were all setting off to different places. The journey was several days long with her horse, meaning many of her most severe wounds from King's Landing were healed enough for her to go to sea.

Arya's resolve had stayed very strong during her march over land. Along the way she gathered a small crew of sailors for hire and smallfolk, and at the shore, she commissioned a small ship from a minor house at Lannisport with coin she had brought along and gotten from selling her horse. Seven days and nights of gathering supplies and getting some rest, and she decided she was ready to go with the new ship.

Setting off was very unceremonious. Though she suspected some of her makeshift crew had an inkling of who she was, with their agreement to such a dangerous mission, none made any effort to get confirmation or spread their suspicion. It was a relief, really. It gave her the freedom to breathe the ocean air in peace and leave her newfound legendary status behind.

What she couldn't leave behind was the thoughts of her family. Though they would no longer be together with their positions after the war, Arya couldn't help but reflect on how hard they'd all worked to be together again. She thought also of how her parents would feel; overjoyed at their reunion and crushed by their separation. Arya swallowed down doubts rising in her throat as she stared out at the water, ignoring the shrinking mass of land at her back. She took comfort in knowing the North was free and that her remaining family was as safe as they could be.

…

It was their second day of sailing when the storm hit. She knew this mission of hers was dangerous and one that had taken the lives of many before her, but it wasn't until she flinched at the crackling thunder above and was blinded by the lightning that she realized what she was doing. She thought she was choosing life by embracing adventure, but all she'd really done was walk into another method of death.

Though she hated to admit it, the sounds of the storm took Arya back to King's Landing. The thunder rumbled and crackled like a crumbling building, the flashes of lightning making her skin burn like standing beside dragon fire. Images of the mother and daughter she tried to save, charred beyond recognition, was forced to the forefront of her mind.

Shaking and breathing heavy, Arya hurried into her chambers. A feeling of helplessness gripped her as she took in the fact that she could do nothing to help her crew. She had no idea how to sail a ship, and all she was managing to do was get in the way. With a weak laugh, Arya leaned back against her door and slid down to the floor, curling her knees in. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she stayed chillingly still as the storm raged on around her, driving the storm of thoughts overfilling her mind.

…

The crew took the storm in stride and made it out unscathed, but Arya knew she was in over her head. So many others had tried to make this journey before, and no one ever came back. The storm wasn't a particularly good omen, and the resurgence of her trauma made her feel exhaustion like she never had before. The open ocean that initially felt like freedom suddenly felt like isolation.

Walking down the steps from the upper deck where her room was, she opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by one of the crewmembers. "I think this is that storm's end captain, but there are still clouds on the horizon; may be another one on the way."

He had no idea the impact his words had on her. For the first time since she'd set sail, Gendry's face came to mind alongside those of her remaining family members. By now her siblings would have been scattered around, but she knew exactly where Gendry was going to be. She also knew the Sunset Sea connected to Shipbreaker Bay through the Summer Sea and Stepstones.

"We're changing course. I want to go to Shipbreaker Bay." Arya announced to her crew.

"Captain, that's at least a three week's journey. Why make a detour there?"

"And how long did you expect ‘west of Westeros' to take?"

The crew quieted down when Arya made her point, and no one pressed her on why she brushed aside the second half of the crewman's reply. She also didn't bother to correct that this was the new endpoint, not a detour.

"Can we navigate the Stepstones?"

"It'll take some patience and a little luck, but it's possible."

Arya nodded to the one who answered her question before addressing the crew as a whole again. Her voice was strong, but her face was weary.

"Well then, that settles it. To Shipbreaker Bay." Arya turned on her heel and climbed back to the upper deck, watching as her crew made the change in course, talking confusedly amongst themselves.

Arya knew deep down that this was what Sandor was telling her to do. She didn't want to admit it, but this felt right. The only things left to do were survive the journey and figure out what the bloody hell to say to Gendry.

…

They were a bit over two-thirds of the way to Storm's End, and Arya had made no progress coming up with what to do when she got there. What she had managed to do was get closer with some members of the crew, who were now aware of more details of her new plan. There was a fair amount of surprise from those who did know of what she'd done and the reputation she had, but no one questioned it. She still had half of their payment stashed away, after all.

"I didn't plan to leave King's Landing alive, and I wasn't going to make promises I couldn't keep. That wasn't fair to do to you, and I should have explained myself. No, that's too blunt… Gendry, I…" Arya ran her hand through her hair in frustration with a groan.

"Captain, we're running low on fresh water and food. Planky Town is no more than a half day away, would you permit a stop there for the night?" The crewman who had become her first mate spoke through the door.

Arya walked over and opened the door. "Of course, we need to keep our strength up. No need to rush."

‘I need more time to think.' Her first mate saw the look in her eyes and understood the deeper layer to her reply. Her face still showed her fatigue and stress, and her first mate gave her a reassuring nod.

"I'll let the men know. We'll be docking around sundown then. Let's plan to depart around midday tomorrow so we have more time to gather supplies, yeah?" He didn't wait for another response before excusing himself and shutting the door behind him.

Arya exhaled deeply and closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the door. After gathering herself for a moment, she stood back upright and walked out to the main deck. Quietly, she went over their supplies and was working out what they needed to buy. It was a sufficient distraction to let her mind rest, and time-consuming enough that they could see Planky Town by the time she was done.

…

She split the list of supplies amongst the men and sent them off with coin to get what they could before dusk. She wasn't worried about any of them trying to sneak off. Planky Town was small and isolated enough they wouldn't get very far. The time alone was worth more than what she'd left them with anyway.

With the ship safely docked and the crew given enough time to spread out, Arya disembarked. Though it was getting late, the town was still active and lively. Merchants still showed their wares to potential buyers as they passed. Children played through the street, filling the air with shouting and laughter. It pulled a light smile to Arya's face as she realized how much she had missed land.

Her attention was drawn to a cart full of colorful fabrics. She'd brought only what clothes she needed, and by know had worn each piece at least thrice. Arya thought with a tinge of embarrassment that she wanted to find something new to save for the day she made it to Storm's End. Hesitantly, she approached the cart, one hand in her pocket playing gently with her own ration of coin.

"Ah, greetings lass!" The merchant chirped as she approached. "A bit dark and drowned in that, are we?"

The merchant's eyes scanned over her, and Arya knew he was sizing her up. She must have looked a right mess, her clothes hanging loose over her frame and her hair frazzled from the salty air. She'd lost weight being on the boat, and it wasn't hard to tell. She was sure her face showed her days of stress, too.

"May I?" Arya held her hand toward the cart and was met with a nod from the merchant, who turned to speak to another customer.

Running her hands over the fabrics, Arya found a soft cape of gold and grey. Tugging it from the pile, she noted the soft sheen of the fabric in the fading light. The length was a bit long for her, the hem hitting the heels of her boots, but she would make do. It had a hood, too.

"Twenty pennies for that one." The merchant gave his price firmly.

Arya fished out three copper stars and handed them over, assuming the exchange was close enough. The merchant looking surprised at the more valuable coins in his hand and shifted his attention back to Arya.

"Is there anything else catching those lovely eyes?" The merchant leaned over his cart and smiled a bit too warmly at Arya, his eyes moving over her again, slowly.

"No. Thank you." Arya answered quickly and turned away, uncomfortable with the merchant's keen attention.

As Arya walked, she pulled the cloak off and haphazardly folded it to carry. Dusk was falling now, and she wanted to be back in her bed before the night arrived. By the time she returned to the ship, most of the crew was already there. They had found most of the supplies they needed but would return in the morning for more food.

Bidding the crew goodnight, Arya closed the door to her makeshift room behind her. Carefully, she slipped the cloak under her bed before laying down. It was then she realized why the colors caught her eye; they looked quite a bit like the Baratheon and Stark colors. With a quiet chuckle, Arya shook her head at herself. She was in much deeper than she realized, but she didn't particularly mind. For the first time since the storm, she felt a little energy surge through her.

…

Thirty-one days.

It's been thirty-one days since she'd left Lannisport, and the castle of Storm's End was just appearing on the horizon. It took five days to get from Planky Town to here, with a good deal of that time spent navigating the Stepstones. They'd be docking by sundown, and it was already late afternoon.

Arya once again felt worn. Though her waking hours were spent helping her crew when she could and trying to think about what to do once she arrived, her nights were filled with horrible dreams. No matter how badly she wanted to, she couldn't get her mind to let go of her traumas.

Images of her father's death, of Harrenhal, of the ruin of King's Landing, of her confrontations with the Waif, fill her mind. She wakes up in panic throughout the night, and the toll it was taking was clear. Arya was thinner still, and the bags of her eyes more prominent. Even her mind felt dull as she stood at the bow of the ship, staring blankly at the water.

The crew gave Arya what space they could as they prepared to dock. Surprisingly, there weren't really any guards to question them. Arya briefly wondered if there was anyone there yet. She knew Gendry was putting off coming as long as possible, but just shy of a month seemed like a long time to do that. The King's Council would want all their Lords in place as soon as possible, right?

Arya came back out of her mind again when the boat lurched to a stop. "We need to row the rest of the way." Her 3rd mate came over and gestured her to a waiting rowboat.

"Of course. Let me pay you." Arya answered flatly before going to her chambers.

When she walked back out, the crew had gathered around her door. They all looked expectantly at her, eyes flickering to the bag she held but ignoring the cloak in her arms. Arya sorted through the bag, distributing to each crewman the coin they were promised. Once she'd gone through all the crew, she addressed them.

"Once I am on the land of Storm's End, you're all free to go. I don't intend this to be a detour on a longer trip. You can take the boat." The crew looked uneasy at the surprise change, but none questioned her. The men put their coins in their pockets and worked to get the dinghy ready for Arya.

…

She rowed up to shore alone, feeling giddy and terrified. She still had yet to see a single soul around the castle. Once on the sand, Arya trekked up the pathway towards a side entrance to the structure. By the time she got to it, darkness had fallen. The door was barred shut from the inside as expected.

With a sigh, Arya walked around toward the main entrance, hugging the wall and clutching her cloak. Warily, she placed a hand on Needle in case she met anyone along the way. She never once saw another person and concluded the castle really must be empty. No torches inside were lit, and the path up to the gates showed no signs of man nor horse. When she tried the wooden double doors, they creaked in protest and refused to budge. With no other options coming to mind, Arya found a shadowed corner and sat down, resting her chin on her knees to rest.

…

Gendry had managed for five days to avoid setting off, but Sansa finally forced him to leave. Well, she more or less flushed him out. She had the forge in Winterfell closed up for the day and waited outside its entrance with a packed horse. Upon seeing the scene before him, Gendry groaned and swore.

"There's nothing for you here, and you're awfully close to being considered a trespasser to the North with how long you've lingered. You've got a job to do and you are plenty rested after the journey, so go." Sansa spoke firmly, holding the hand around the horse's reins out.

"Gods, I fight for you, I forge for you, and this is what I get? When did you sneak in to pack my things up anyway?" Gendry sniped, roughly taking the reins.

"It wasn't hard for my men to do with you passed out cold."

Sighing in agitation, Gendry gave the Queen of the North one hard look before turning away. Leading the horse towards the gate, the men assigned to follow Gendry to Storm's End Mounted their steeds. Sansa had already readied all of them as well. Gendry tried to stay angry, but he was grateful she set up his party. Giving the group of riders a stiff nod, Gendry rode from the gate, prepared for the month-long journey to Storm's End.

His journey was fortunately uneventful, with no loss of life and no major health issues. Some cuts, scrapes, and soreness from the long rides, but nothing a little time wouldn't help. Gendry and his convoy made it to Storm's End at dusk on their thirty-third day of travel. By that time, Arya had found a way inside the castle with a little help from a tree and window.

"What shall we do now, my Lord?" The captain of the convoy walked his horse next to Gendry's.

Gendry paused for a moment, skin crawling from being called Lord. "Let's find somewhere to stable the horses?" Gendry dismounted his horse and the captain took its reins to lead it.

With a nod, the captain gestured for his men to follow, and Gendry stepped out of the way as the herd marched around the corner of the building to find the stables. With a deep breath, Gendry approached the front entrance, finding it already open. He didn't know it should have been barred shut.

His footsteps echoed deafeningly when he walked inside. Using his torch, Gendry began lighting the ones hung against the walls, illuminating the entryway. The light crept down the hallways, attracting Arya's attention from the Lord's chambers and making her breath catch in her throat. She could now hear the hoofbeats outside as the horses were put away for the night, the voices of men discussing their watch schedules blending into the noise.

Arya was pulled from the sounds outside by footsteps coming closer inside, the light growing brighter as her heart pounded in her chest. She knew she should hide, but she stayed frozen as Gendry's silhouette appeared in the doorway.

"Who in the bloody hell-"

"It's me, Gendry." The sound of a sword unsheathing stopped at the sound of her excited voice.

"Arya?" Gendry blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing right.

While Arya stepped forward, a smile on her lips, Gendry's face darkened, and he held his ground. Surprised, Arya stopped just out of arm's reach from Gendry. She'd hoped he would meet her part way, but she cast that aside and made to hug the blacksmith.

She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder and a cold glare. "Why are you here?"

"I couldn't do it Gendry; I couldn't leave like that. I came back to live, to be with you." Arya's stomach turned to stone under Gendry's hard expression, the joy in her voice dying out like a flame.

Gendry pulled his hand away and paced to one side of the room, pinching the bridge of his nose with his head lowered. Arya felt dizzy, daring not to move as she took in what was happening. None of the scenarios she played in her head went like this, and she felt ill at her unpreparedness.

"Arya…" She winced at the pained way he said her name. "Am I just here for you to come and go to as you please? Is that it?"

"No, I mean it!" Arya hated how distressed she sounded, but she couldn't find any other voice to use. She stepped closer to Gendry, who turned to face her.

"I thought you meant it when you said you'd be my family, what happened to that? And what about that night in the forge, did you mean that? Because it doesn't feel like you did."

"You don't understand, there's so much you don't know-" Her voice came out rushed as she tried to patch the situation, but it did little to help.

"I know that you crushed me, Arya. I made myself vulnerable to you, and you broke me. You gave me the best night of my life and ripped it away the next. You didn't even look at me again after, even in King's Landing. I was four seats away from you and you never once acknowledged me! And then you disappear, barely letting your family know?" Gendry moved from devastated to angry as he spoke, his voice raised to a shout by the end.

Arya was silent. She felt her eyes grow wet and she drew no comfort looking into Gendry's wild eyes. Try as she might, she couldn't find words to say. While she dug through her mind to try and reply, Gendry turned to walk away.

"Gendry, wait." Arya pled to his back with a hand outstretched, but he made no pause.

Letting a sob from her throat, Arya sat on the bed and let herself crumble, drifting away into a restless sleep.

…

The next day, Gendry made a point of avoiding Arya. As she roamed around Storm's End, she'd sometimes bump into Gendry and search for words to say, but he was always gone before she found any. He had at least informed his soldiers of her presence and his approval of it, meaning she was left alone by them as well.

By about midday, Arya was pretty sure she had seen everything she cared to and her stomach needed to be placated. With some difficulty, Arya found her way to the kitchen and was conflicted to see that Gendry was already there. He spared her only a quick glance before returning to whatever he was eating.

Arya looked around and found lamprey pie and candied almonds, to her surprise. Whoever the chef Gendry was sent with is, they had clearly cooked for Kings before. Taking only a small helping, Arya started to make her way back out of the dining area.

"I'd prefer that dining be confined to the dining room." At Gendry's words, Arya stopped and turned to speak.

"Why, so you can shout at me again?"

"No, so we can talk about what happened. We are both adults, right?"

Rolling her eyes at Gendry's attitude, Arya made her way back to the dining table. She sat as far from him as she could, taking care that her new cloak was laid flat under her. She fixed her stare on him as she put a bit of pie in her mouth, looking expectant.

Gendry cleared his throat to buy himself some time to choose his words. "To be blunt, I wasn't expecting to see you again after you left the Dragonpit. You must understand what a shock it was to see you in my room when I arrived."

Arya also paused to get through a candied almond and another bite of pie before she responded. "I didn't expect it either, but here we are. I thought it'd be a good surprise, but clearly, you'd disagree."

"I don't disagree, Arya. Can't you understand how much you hurt me?" Gendry didn't realize his words would set Arya off.

The screech of a chair scooting back snapped the tension in the room as Arya got to her feet. "Don't try to talk to me about pain. Ask me what I've been through, and maybe then we'll talk."

The sound of Arya's footsteps filled the hall as she walked away, her cloak billowing behind her. It was then Gendry noticed its colors, and he realized she did indeed mean everything she'd given to their relationship. Slamming a fist on the table, Gendry wondered how he could fix the damage he'd done since their reunion.

…

Gendry couldn't sleep that night, overwhelmed by emotions he couldn't pack away. Relief at seeing Arya alive and well, anger at her for throwing him aside, joy for her coming back to pick him up again, sadness that it was happening this way, and fear that he wasn't ready to be here at all.

He agonized over what to do. Part of him ached to walk down the hallway to the room on the other side of the wall and take her into his arms, to kiss her and ask her to be by his side all over again. The other demanded that he make her leave, to make her feel rejection as he had and show her that he wasn't so easy to break down. His battle between choices was interrupted by haunting screams.

Gendry leaped from his bed, dashing down the hallway towards the screams and into Arya's room. Throwing the door open, he saw her thrashing around in the dark, the sheets thrown to the floor. She continued to scream; the sound was raw with panic. Not knowing what else to do, Gendry pinned Arya still by her shoulders.

Briefly, she continued to fight against the restriction, but soon she grew still as her screams settled to whines and pants as she woke. Gendry's now adjusted eyes saw tears streaking her face and smears of wet under her nose. He was taken aback by the site, having never seen her like this before.

Gendry's eyes met Arya's, and time felt as though it stopped as they gazed at one another. It couldn't have been more than five seconds before Arya broke the silence.

"I still smell it. I feel it, see it, no matter how badly I don't want to."

Before Gendry could respond, three armored men strode into the room, weapons ready for a fight. "Is everything alright, my Lord?" The soldier farthest in the room inquired, looking at Arya.

"Yes; please leave us be." Gendry gave the men the best dismissive look he could muster, which still looked more pleading than commanding. His voice didn't hold much more strength either, but the guards still obeyed.

Once the room was theirs again, Gendry returned his attention to Arya. "You were there, in King's Landing, weren't you?"

Arya nodded solemnly. Gendry had suspected as much, but he never tried to confirm it. He was too afraid of the answers he'd get if he asked. What he missed through that, however, was understanding more of why she turned him away.

"I didn't expect to come back."

Another quiet moment fell over the pair. In a strange way, Arya's confession of her expectation of dying made Gendry feel less hurt. It demonstrated that she cared for him enough to want to let him go. Knowing which side of the war in his head as winning, he pulled Arya into a hug.

Arya took the embrace willingly, burying her face into Gendry's neck and slipping her arms around him. Gendry could feel her shaking and tried to imagine what her nightmare was like. Despite his best efforts, he knew he couldn't possibly envision what she'd seen. He wondered what else she'd been through since they parted at Hollow Hill.

Though much was left to be said, neither of them had the strength to bring up more. Instead, Gendry took Arya into his arms. She made no protest as he carried her out of the room, taking her into the Lord's chambers for the night. He gently laid her down and settled himself beside her. Arya contemplated protesting that she'd hurt him if she had another nightmare, but she held her tongue. She dared not give him a reason to create distance between them again.

Both soon fell asleep again, resting better in the other's company. The war in Gendry's mind had ended, and Arya's nightmare didn't resume. They stayed as they had drifted off until dawn when Arya began to stir.

Peeling her eyes open, the first thing Arya saw was Gendry's sleeping face. A small smile pulled at her lips, and she once again got the feeling that this was right. She gave Gendry a gentle squeeze, causing him to stir as well.

Gendry groaned and shifted, glancing over to where weight held him down. Seeing Arya, he felt another surge of emotions. Though some irritation peeked through, it retreated when he saw the expression on her face.

Arya's smile turned from soft to coy. "If I slept in the Lord's chambers last night, does that make me the Lady of Storm's End?"

Gendry chuckled and shook his head. "I'm afraid not, you need to be betrothed to the Lord for that title."

"Maybe the Lord should ask me again."

At her challenging words, Gendry shifted up onto his elbow and looked down at her in surprise. Arya playfully raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to proceed. Trusting she wouldn't have encouraged him if she planned to say no again, Gendry found the words he should have used before.

"Arya Stark of Winterfell, I won't ask you to be the Lady of Storm's End. That's not you, and I know that now. I would have known that before, if I had been smart enough to listen. But what I will ask is that we be together. You don't have to hold the title if you don't want it, and I'll renounce mine if I have to; I mean what I said about it meaning nothing without you."

Taking a deep breath, Gendry finished his little speech. "Married or not, will you allow me the honor of being yours?"

Arya smiled so wide it made her cheeks ache. Though she was disheveled with her tangled hair and a tearstained face, Arya felt loved and beautiful. She couldn't help it, with the way Gendry looked at her.

"Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End, it would be my pleasure to let you have me, as your Lady." Arya gave Gendry a firm answer before he could worry about the pause.

Gendry responded by passionately kissing Arya, and she returned the kiss with the same intensity. Though the proposal and kiss wouldn't be all it took to make their relationship as strong as it could be, it gave them more than enough to make it worth the fight.

After a moment, the couple parted lips. Arya rested her forehead against Gendry's, exhaling aloud. Gendry gently placed a hand on Arya's waist, feeling the raised bumps of her scars through her clothes. He ran his thumb over them slowly, curiosity evident on his face. Arya put her hand over his and pulled her face away.

"I think we have some catching up to do." Gendry nodded in agreement, and both were ready to hear out all that the other wished to say.


End file.
